own, her face intent,
her brows knit, and looking ten years older, as the candle cast a
curious shadow on her countenance.

Then the lover intervened on her behalf.

No; she could not be. To suppose that she was awake was to credit her
with being deceitful--with cheating him into the belief that night that
she was asleep.

He was about to spring out, throw himself at her feet, and waken her
with his caresses, but a chilling feeling of repulsion stayed him. It
might work mischief in the terrible fright it would give her at being
awakened in that gloomy room. And besides, what a place to select for
his passionate avowals. It was secret and silent, the very home for
such a love as his; but there was the terrible past.

Where she was seated, but a short time back, there lay the ghastly body
of the murdered man. Behind her was the bed where so recently a strange
occupant was stretched, and beneath it lay that other lately discovered
horror. Beyond that built-up wall was the Colonel's tomb.

Love was impossible in such a place as that; and did he want
confirmation of the fact that Katrine was a somnambulist, he felt that
he had it here before him. For no girl of her years would dare to come
down in the dead of the night, and enter that room, haunted as it was
with such terrible memories.

He stood watching her as she crouched there, looking straight before
her, and as she suddenly sprang up, and went to a picture painted upon a
panel in the wall, he found himself growing excited by the fancy that,
perhaps, in the clairvoyant state of sleep, she might be able to
discover the mystery that had baffled them all.

He stood there wrapt in his thoughts, till he saw her turn from the
frame, that she had tried to move in a dozen different ways, her fingers
playing here and there with marvellous quickness about the corners and
prominent bits of carving, as if she expected that any one might prove
to be a secret spring.

Again she tried another picture; darted to the group of statuary in the
corner, and tried to lift it back, as if expecting that which she sought
might be hidden beneath it; and again there was the movement, full of
dejection and despair, as she stood facing him with the light full upon
her eyes.

She turned away, despondently; and then started upright, with her eyes
flashing, and one hand raised in the involuntary movement of one who
listens intently to some sound.

Had she heard something, or was it